


It Always Comes Back to You

by rlawnsausw, takostation



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ChanSoo - Freeform, ChanSoo Fic Fest, M/M, takoyakistation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:23:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8001772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rlawnsausw/pseuds/rlawnsausw, https://archiveofourown.org/users/takostation/pseuds/takostation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Befriending the new housekeeper's children was more of an obligation than a choice, but it turned out to be a good thing anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Always Comes Back to You

**Author's Note:**

> **Author Notes:** I kinda diverted off the prompt as this steadily gained a mind of its own, but I hope everyone enjoys anyway!
> 
>  
> 
> This is a chansoo story written for Takoyaki Station (http://takostation.livejournal.com). Please comment on the LiveJournal site for the story, thank you!

8

“Stop following me!” Kyungsoo yells over his shoulder at the boy following hurriedly on his heels, about his height, rounded cheeks and sharp ears, who pushes his glasses higher up his nose as he doggedly follows Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo runs faster.

“Umma said you would play with me!” he hears the boy call. Kyungsoo has a vague notion about who he is; they’ve been getting ready for the new arrival of a new housekeeper the past week, and he’d heard the unfamiliar voices of a boy and girl as he’d passed the kitchen on his way to the gardens.

Kyungsoo’s about to turn back to tell him that he'll do no such thing, he’s eight and he doesn’t play with kids, when he hears a thump followed by a cry and helplessly turns back to look. 

In the sprawling gardens of his parents’ estate there sits in the middle the biggest, tallest, most magnificent tree. Kyungsoo dimly remembers, back when his grandfather had still been alive and active enough to move around on his own, sitting with his grandfather under its sprawling shade and listening to his grandfather read to him. It was his grandfather’s favourite.

It’s this tree’s roots the boy has tripped over, one of the ones at the furthest points of its radius, small enough to go mostly unnoticed but apparently also big enough to harm. Kyungsoo sighs, but he thinks about what his mother would say if he chose to make his getaway at this point and trudges back instead; a moment’s peace isn’t worth the pinching that’s bound to follow. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, crouching down beside the boy. His cheeks are even rounder up close, ruddy from the exertion. His eyes, when they peer up at Kyungsoo through his glasses, are huge and heaving with unshed tears. They drop down to stare morosely at the bleeding wound the boy now spots on his knee.

“It hurts,” he mumbles, and looks up at Kyungsoo again. He must take Kyungsoo’s non-reaction as some sort of encouragement, because he takes in a deep and wobbly inhale before promptly bursting into tears. 

Kyungsoo grimaces. He’s never been good with younger children, having grown up alone with only his nanny for real company. Hesitantly, he reaches out a hand and gives the boy a consoling pat.

“There there, don’t cry,” he tells the boy who only cries harder in response, both tears and mucus running down his face, wails seemingly getting louder. Kyungsoo puts both arms around the boy and pulls him close against his shoulder this time. It seems to help, because the boy immediately wraps his own arms around Kyungsoo, alternating between crying and hiccuping into Kyungsoo’s neck. Kyungsoo sighs in relief.

"Here," he says, as he reaches his hand out over the ground and concentrates. The boy peels his face from where it had been pressed into Kyungsoo's shoulder and staining it with his tears. Slowly but surely, bits of soil lift up towards Kyungsoo's palm and join together until they become a little ball that he then pushes into a form that could pass for a dog. He's been practising animal shapes, and this is the best one he's mastered so far. He lets it drop into his palm and presents it to the boy, beaming with pride.

His smile grows even wider at the look of wonder on the boy's face as he receives the little figure; the tears have dried up and his face is still splotchy, but he's clearly stopped crying and has moved on, which Kyungsoo will take over crying any day. Kyungsoo gives himself a mental pat for a job well done and crisis averted.

Then the boy hiccups and a puff of flames bursts out in his palm, right where the dog had once been, and now is back to a misshaped lump. There’s a moment of silence where they stare at the boy’s hand in shock, then the boy hiccups once again, only this time in a way indicative of impending tears. Kyungsoo scrambles to form a distorted giraffe before the floodgates open once again.

 

 

 

11

It’s late and quiet, moonlight shining through the gaps in the curtains and casting a soft glow upon the room. Kyungsoo tosses and turns in his bed, frustrated at being unable to fall asleep.

He’s halfway debating going down to the kitchen for a snack when he hears the door open.

“No, go away,” he mumbles as Chanyeol crawls into his bed and immediately starts trying to hog his pillow and blanket. Kyungsoo shoves the extra pillow in Chanyeol’s direction, refusing to give up the one he’s using. He makes sure to tug on the blanket until they at least each have an equal share; he knows he’ll end up shivering in the morning as Chanyeol sleeps peacefully and warmly tucked in the blanket, otherwise. It’s happened a few times, much to his constant irritation, and he’s always made sure to snatch the blanket away in such a manner that it causes Chanyeol to startle awake every time. Unfortunately, however, his disdain for blanket-stealing and hogging behaviour still seems to have yet to set in for Chanyeol, who keeps trying to wind the blankets around his legs. It’s aggravating, considering Chanyeol runs hotter than anyone else he knows; he can literally set himself on fire to keep himself warm, he shouldn’t even need the blanket. Unreasonable thief.

“Yura’s snoring again,” Chanyeol complains pitifully. He snuggles in as close as he can possibly get, breath huffing warmly on Kyungsoo, who tries to push him away. He doesn’t even know why he bothers when he’s never succeeded. At least he can feel the heat radiating off Chanyeol, when he’s this close.

“So go set fire to her hair and make her stop,” Kyungsoo grouses, only half joking. Chanyeol laughs like Kyungsoo’s said something incredibly amusing. In fact, he laughs so hard Kyungsoo feels the bed vibrate. Kyungsoo sighs and makes another attempt at putting some distance between them but Chanyeol uses his octopus tendencies to good use and clings on anyway, settling in with a satisfied sigh.

For all his complaining about Yura, Chanyeol starts snoring himself after falling asleep. Kyungsoo pushes Chanyeol’s mouth shut with a grimace and an annoyed tsk, but he always somehow manages to fall asleep to the soundtrack of Chanyeol’s snores. Though of course, when he wakes up shivering in the morning to find that Chanyeol’s wrapped the entire length of the blanket around himself, he doesn’t hesitate in placing his foot to Chanyeol’s side and firmly kicking him off the bed, making sure to pull the blanket away as Chanyeol slides off. Then he wraps the blanket around himself and settles down in the warm spot Chanyeol’s just vacated, letting out a satisfied sigh.

 

 

 

13

Kyungsoo’s setting up the chess set when Chanyeol walks in, carefully holding onto two mugs. He passes one over to Kyungsoo, who pauses to take a deep breath of the rich scent of hot chocolate.

“Careful,” Chanyeol tells him, setting his own down on the table. Kyungsoo waves a hand at him in dismissal, already taking a ginger sip at his drink. He sighs in satisfaction; Chanyeol has this magical way with hot chocolate, always getting it to his preferred temperature. And if Kyungsoo sets it aside from later, he can always count on Chanyeol to easily heat it up for him again.

Hot chocolate and chess has become one of their little traditions, ever since Kyungsoo had taught Chanyeol how to play and then promptly figured out that it made him less fidgety and hyper. Kyungsoo isn’t as inclined to be constantly outdoors climbing trees and risking certain death the way Chanyeol and Yura are, and he enjoys that chess is a way they can have fun together without potential injury or accident. Yura hasn’t taken to the game like Chanyeol did, but sometimes she watches by the side, sneaking sips from both of their hot chocolates.

Tonight Chanyeol has something on his mind, he can tell, because Chanyeol doesn’t make fun of Kyungsoo’s need for mini marshmallows in his hot chocolate the way he usually does, nor does he argue to play white.

“Soo,” Chanyeol finally says, “Why do you think we have powers?” His brows are furrowed deeply as he asks.

“Is this because you burned Yura today?” Kyungsoo puts down the piece he’d been about to move. Chanyeol had gotten too excited earlier recounting his experience with a ferret he’d seen in the gardens, and it had ended up in Yura needing a bandage for her wrist and copious amounts of weepy tears from Chanyeol. He’d trailed after her for the rest of the evening, asking after her well-being and stubbornly insisting on doing everything for her until she had gotten fed up and left for bed early. Chanyeol looks woebegone even now, clearly still thinking about it. He nods sadly.

“There’s no point if we can’t even control them,” Chanyeol says forlornly. He looks so upset. Kyungsoo briefly thinks about offering him the pack of mini marshmallows to put in his own hot chocolate, because he definitely looks like he could do with it.

“That’s not true, you’ve improved lots,” Kyungsoo points out instead. And he really has. They all have. It’d been bad enough having a child who caused small earthquakes every other night; Yura and Chanyeol joining the household meant that they also had to deal with random objects bursting into flames or being thrown around whenever Chanyeol got mad or Yura got overly excited. They live in an estate far away enough from the community that no one else sees the weird incidents often enough to be getting suspicious and Kyungsoo’s parents are very strict on vetting every potential worker who might have access to the house, making sure the entire thing’s kept hush-hush. Recognising the need for them to gain control over their abilities, Kyungsoo’s dad had gotten a fireproof, waterproof, an everything-proof basement installed. They’ve spent a great deal of time down there just playing around, helping each other train and harness their gifts.

“But what if this is the most I can do?” Chanyeol looks frustrated. “What if I end up hurting other people too?” He rests the side of his head on the table, clearly done with the game. “I don’t want to hurt people. I’m a weirdo,” he tells Kyungsoo, who pushes the chessboard aside to grab onto the hand closest to his own.

“You’re not,” he tells Chanyeol sternly. “You can heat up our hot chocolates and help your mum with the cooking when we’re out of gas. Sometimes I can levitate myself up into the treehouse without having to climb. Yura doesn’t even have to get out of her chair to get the remote control. You’re not a weirdo. You’re cool. We’re all cool. One day we’re gonna do really cool things with these,” he finishes emphatically, giving Chanyeol’s hand a squeeze. He feels a little embarrassed about the pep talk but it’s really what he feels. Sometimes he dreams about what they could do in the future, when they can freely tell people about what they can do, and be able to make a difference with their abilities. He thinks Chanyeol could make a really good chef or firefighter.

“You really think so?” Chanyeol says, wide-eyed. He’s already starting to smile a little, which looks so much better than his sad faces. He’s always been quick to believe whatever Kyungsoo says and cheer up.

“Yeah, of course,” Kyungsoo says. He gives one last squeeze to Chanyeol’s hand and then lets go, pulling the chessboard back towards them. Then he pushes his mug of hot chocolate, which has since cooled, towards Chanyeol. “First you’re gonna heat this back up for me, and then I’m going to win this round,” he tells Chanyeol confidently.

 

 

 

15

“Mum, mum!” Chanyeol hollers. Kyungsoo picks his head up from the table where he’d laid it to glare at Chanyeol for making so much noise so early in the morning. Yura’s got Chanyeol in a headlock, which possibly explains all the noise and jostling he’d felt from his face against the kitchen table, but doesn’t excuse it. Chanyeol pouts at him and Yura clings even harder. Chanyeol howls even louder in response.

Mrs Park comes in through the side door to the kitchen, dropping the basket of clean laundry she’s collected onto a chair before slapping each of her children’s heads in turn. Immediately the two of them separate, though still scowling at each other.

“Behave,” she tells them sternly as she picks up the laundry basket once again and exits. Yura and Chanyeol both stick their tongues out at each other the moment her back’s turned, and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes at the childish display.

“You guys better behave before she comes back,” he points out, feeling incredibly dignified in comparison as he sips at his cup of tea.

As housekeeper, Mrs Park rules over the household with an iron fist. Kyungsoo’s come to see her as a second mother since his parents decided that he’d outgrown a nanny and would do just fine under the care of the new housekeeper. Sometimes Chanyeol laughs at Kyungsoo for being afraid of his mum, but honestly, the force of Mrs Park’s ‘I’m very disappointed in you’ face is enough of an incentive to stop before things get too far.

It’s just that her children seem very committed to testing exactly how far they can go before it counts as ‘too far’.

“You’re only a year older than us, you aren’t the boss,” Chanyeol tells Kyungsoo. Little bits of chewed rice fall from his mouth onto the table and Yura “ew”s in response, flicking her wrist and letting the rice fly back into Chanyeol’s bowl. Chanyeol continues eating, unperturbed. When Yura picks up her fork to resume eating she drops it with a yelp; it’s clearly Chanyeol’s doing, no matter how he tries to busy himself with stuffing his mouth with even more rice. Somehow he’s managed to heat it up without anyone else noticing. Lately his control has gotten a lot better, which more than likely bodes no good for anyone aside from himself.

“I sure feel like the boss,” Kyungsoo wrinkles his nose at Chanyeol’s eating habits. “You guys are fourteen but act like you’re four.” As if to prove his point, Yura retaliates for earlier by stopping the spoon that’s on its way to Chanyeol’s mouth and making it smack him lightly on the nose, promptly setting off another round of squabbling 

They constantly bicker back and forth like this, but Kyungsoo would rather it remain that way than having them gang up on him together, as he’s reminded later when Mrs Park comes back in and gives him the biggest piece of red bean bun for ‘good behaviour’ and they both turn twin glares on him. He rolls his eyes and peels off a corner and passes it to them, watching with satisfaction as they both turn their attention to arguing over splitting it instead, giving himself a mental pat on the back.

 

 

 

16

“I don’t think you should do this,” Kyungsoo warns. He looks pleadingly at Yura, but she’s got the same mischievous grin on that Chanyeol’s sporting, and Kyungsoo knows it’s already a lost cause. Yura’s always tended towards mischief rather than the straight path, no matter how much Kyungsoo’s once hoped for an ally in the fight to maintain rationality. It’s not like he’s got any delusions, considering the number of times the pair of them have managed to tempt him into being part of the cause of trouble, but Kyungsoo likes to at least maintain the illusion of being able to resist, if even for just a while.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, little bro,” she leans forward, to shield herself from the strong wind as much as to get a closer look at Chanyeol’s cupped hands, giggling in delight when they start to smoke slightly. Chanyeol’s always been able to conjure up balls of flames he can cup in his hands, but lately he’s branched out to forming shapes with them. It’s amazing, a testament of how far he’s come, but it’s also not something Kyungsoo wants to see when they’re out at a bus stop in the next town over, although the chilly temperature makes him lean in in instinctive anticipation at the impending warmth. Usually a driver would come by to bring them home, but Yura had insisted they would be fine making the journey on their own to pick up some porcelain pieces Kyungsoo’s mother had ordered. She had jumped at the opportunity upon learning that the place that sold the porcelain set didn’t offer a delivery service, wanting to take the rare chance to leave the house and its sprawling estate.

Kyungsoo’s family are well-off enough that they’re respected within their own community; no one after all, wants to offend anyone who lives in the isolated mansion, whose occupants leave and return in a big fancy car and are hardly seen just roaming out and about. The people here, however, will probably kick up more of a fuss if one of their bus stops somehow gets burned down, Kyungsoo thinks. He prays for the bus to hurry up.

“Stop it,” he hisses at Chanyeol as a small ball of flame lights up between Chanyeol’s palms. He glares in response to their ridiculous puppy eyes, refusing to give in. Chanyeol’s mischievous, but he also knows when Kyungsoo’s crossed the line from reluctant compliance into full-out unwillingness. He finally snuffs out the ball of flame with a petulant pout. Yura lets out a sad, “Aw,” in response.

“And you, stop encouraging him,” Kyungsoo whisper-hisses Yura severely as they board the bus. He isn’t surprised when Yura and Chanyeol take seats meant for two instead of the usual row at the back of the bus where the three of them can pile in, and ignores their sullen looks in the direction of his single seat for the rest of the bus ride home.

 

 

 

19

Chanyeol and Yura start clamouring for a little out-of-town trip once summer’s around the corner, wanting to visit the newly-opened beach two towns over. They get the green light from Kyungsoo’s parents and Mrs Park, who generously give in after considering that they’re now all old enough to drive and make the journey on their own. Kyungsoo’s initially indifferent towards the idea, agreeing to tag along just for the sake of joining in, but he warms up to the idea by the time they leave. It’s difficult not to after two weeks of listening to Chanyeol and Yura enthuse about all the fun they’re going to have. Chanyeol turns up the radio as they drive down and they all take turns singing along to the radio. Chanyeol laughs himself silly and nearly runs them off the road after Kyungsoo, struck by spontaneity, tries his hand at a trot song.

When they finally get to the beach, Chanyeol and Yura whoop loudly and throw their bags down, cheering the whole time as they run towards the sea. Left behind, Kyungsoo shakes his head as he patiently moves the abandoned bags and the ice box he’s carrying to one of the giant umbrellas lined up in rows along the sand, sitting underneath and searching for the sunblock lotion. He proceeds to slather himself with it, not wanting to run the risk of looking like a lobster at the end of the day. He stretches out once he’s done, relishing in the feel of so much sand, all the sand, between his fingers and toes and coating the back of his legs. He grabs a fistful of sand and watches as the grains fall through the gaps of his fingers, wishing he could do something with them.

Out in front, Yura’s somehow managed to make her way up on to Chanyeol’s back, arms around his shoulders as she commands him around. In true Chanyeol fashion, he takes all of two steps before he stumbles, submerging the two of them into the water. They emerge sputtering, and Kyungsoo’s sure that even the family sitting at the umbrella furthest from them can hear Yura screeching at her brother for getting her hair wet. Chanyeol laughs the whole time as he runs away, trying to dodge her flailing arms. Kyungsoo laughs along as he watches, feeling very glad he didn’t join them.

Yura grabs at Chanyeol’s shirt to stop his escape attempt and his shirt rides up, revealing smooth skin and a soft tummy. Under the sun he’s even more radiant than usual, almost painful to look at. Kyungsoo’s laughter cuts off at the sight. He quickly averts his eyes.

Chanyeol’s shot up by a lot over the years, much to the chagrin of Kyungsoo who seems destined for the path of shortness. One day they’d been the same height, and then somewhere along the way Kyungsoo had started having to look up to look at Chanyeol. The height difference Kyungsoo has grown to not mind so much, even if Chanyeol keeps teasing him about it. What he’s started to mind is how much he’s been noticing Chanyeol. it’s like there’s a magnet connecting his eyes to Chanyeol, how his gaze automatically turns Chanyeol’s way whenever he’s around, an in-built homing device. It’s aggravating. He huffs and resolutely turns away to look in one of the bags for a book he’d asked Chanyeol to help him pack earlier, feeling utterly ridiculous.

He’s managed to get his mind off Chanyeol and about a third into the book when someone sits down next to him. Expecting it to be either Chanyeol or Yura, he’s surprised to find a stranger, a boy who looks his age, smiling at him.

“Hi?” Kyungsoo says uncertainly, closing his book but making sure to slot his bookmark where he’s stopped. He wonders what this boy wants.

“You seemed like you could do with some company,” the boy smiles widely. He has a nice smile, but shows just too much teeth for Kyungsoo’s liking. Kyungsoo scratches at his neck awkwardly as he thinks about whether it’d be rude to tell the boy that he’s wrong. Being home-schooled and growing up with essentially only Chanyeol and Yura around means he hasn’t had much of an opportunity to interact with anyone else his own age. Even on the rare chance they do venture out of Kyungsoo’s family estate, it’s usually the three of them travelling together, like their own little bubble. It’s easier, then, for him to hide behind the both of them when it comes to interaction he isn’t too interested in taking part in. Both Chanyeol and Yura talk enough to make up for him, anyway.

He looks around as he tries to think of a polite way to tell the boy to go away and ends up making eye contact with Chanyeol, who tilts his head to the side and smiles Kyungsoo’s way. He catches sight of the boy who still hasn’t left, and Kyungsoo watches as Chanyeol’s eyebrows start to furrow and he starts making his way towards them.

“Soo, who’s this?” Chanyeol asks, eyes darting between the two of them. Kyungsoo shrugs helplessly in response, glad that Chanyeol’s here. He may be too polite, but Chanyeol won’t hold back. They’ve both grown up to be a little awkward around strangers, but where Kyungsoo becomes more quiet around them, Chanyeol becomes alarmingly straightforward and sometimes rude about what he thinks. Mrs Park sometimes bemoan the fact that Yura’s the only one out of the three of them who knows how to handle ‘normal’ interaction. Sure enough, Chanyeol doesn’t even let the boy get halfway through his introduction before cutting him off.

“We don’t want to hang out with you,” Chanyeol tells him bluntly. The boy hadn’t seem put off by Kyungsoo’s lack of reply earlier but now he seems irritated at Chanyeol’s reply.

“Fine,” he sniffs, “I guess I read this wrongly.” He gets up and leaves quickly, not looking back. Chanyeol throws himself into the empty space left behind, slotting himself neatly right by Kyungsoo’s side. It’s sunny out but Kyungsoo more than welcomes his presence, wanting to make use of Chanyeol’s hotter-than-normal body temperature.

“Somebody likes Kyungsoo,” Chanyeol crows teasingly as he brushes sand off his arms, casting a cheeky glance in Kyungsoo’s direction.

“What are you talking about?” Kyungsoo asks. He’d been feeling warm with gratitude as Chanyeol leaned against him, but it all but vanishes at Chanyeol’s words.

“He was into you,” Chanyeol tells him, like a victorious secret-holder finally letting loose on a secret he’s held onto for a long while.

“How do you even know about that,” Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. Strangely, he feels a little frustrated, wanting to stop this line of conversation.

“Yura has these magazines,” Chanyeol at least has the decency to look a little sheepish. “But he clearly liked you!” he insists.

“I think you should shut up now,” Kyungsoo tells him with a note of finality. Chanyeol salutes, miming the action of zipping up his mouth. He lies down instead, clearly tired from playing in the sun and intent on catching a bit of an afternoon nap. Kyungsoo picks up and opens his book once again, and tries to ignore the warm line of Chanyeol’s body pressed against his side.

 

 

Both Kyungsoo and Chanyeol face-plant into the bed once they get back to the hotel. They’ve split into two rooms for the trip, Yura getting her own room while Chanyeol and Kyungsoo share the other. For some reason the hotel’s deemed fit to give them a room with a double bed, which Kyungsoo hadn’t minded right up until Chanyeol flops down right onto him and lands a knee right in his kidneys.

“Get off,” Kyungsoo demands. Chanyeol rolls over with a grunt, wriggling until he settles himself to Kyungsoo’s side, an arm and leg thrown over Kyungsoo like Kyungsoo’s his bolster. It’s his preferred position whenever he crawls into bed with Kyungsoo after all these years, even though he’d stopped sharing a room with Yura once they hit their teens and he no longer had her snoring to contend with. Kyungsoo still has trouble sleeping on some nights and Chanyeol’s presence somehow makes it easier, so Kyungsoo’s stopped his complaining, instead moving on instinct as Chanyeol arranges himself into place.

They doze for a while. At some point in his half-asleep state, Kyungsoo blearily registers Chanyeol slipping out of bed towards the bathroom. He’s shaken awake afterwards and made to go wash off all the sand and salt. They’re both clean by the time Yura comes knocking later, when the bright afternoon sun’s mellowed to a darker yellow of the evening. Kyungsoo’s still drying his hair with the dryer so Chanyeol lets her in.

She’s clearly just come back from a walk because she’s in a pretty sundress and her favourite pair of sandals. She lobs a box at Chanyeol as she walks in. He fumbles the catch but manages to hold on to the box, pulling its cover open to reveal strawberries within. Kyungsoo gestures for one, suddenly aware of how hungry he is. He bites into the piece Chanyeol passes over, enjoying its ripe sweetness.

“So I found this shop,” Yura starts, pulling a strawberry over with a crook of her finger. Kyungsoo doesn’t hear the rest, because he looks up just in time to see Chanyeol starting on his own strawberry. He’s messy about it as usual and has somehow gotten juice all over his fingers. Kyungsoo gulps as Chanyeol sets about cleaning by licking it up. He does it in the absurdly determined way only Chanyeol would use to approach a non-issue like this.

Except it is an issue, Kyungsoo thinks faintly as he watches Chanyeol’s red, red lips close around a finger, because he’s just realised he really wants to kiss Chanyeol.

 

 

Kyungsoo’s first inkling about his sexuality had been at fifteen, when his mother had been going through a brief gardening phrase and had hired a handsome man to help tend to her flowers. It wasn’t anything dramatic like constantly harbouring erections around the man’s presence, but he’d definitely had at least a daydream or two about those strong arms and defined back muscles.

Objectively speaking, Chanyeol isn't even the most attractive person Kyungsoo has seen. If there was a universal attractiveness rating, Chanyeol would probably score an 8, at most. No, really.

Kyungsoo will admit, however, that Chanyeol’s got these really long legs going for him. And his arms aren't toned but they always feel so strong wrapped around Kyungsoo on the nights they share a bed. Plus he has really big eyes that sparkle and crinkle in turn when he smiles that bright grin of his. He may not be the most attractive guy in the world but anyone would be so lucky to have him as a boyfriend.

"Oh god," Kyungsoo mutters to himself. "I'm fucked." He takes a quick glance in Chanyeol's direction and groans to himself. It had to be Chanyeol he would develop feelings for, out of all the people in the world possible. Life would be so much easier if he'd had his eye on Yura.

And the thing is, he may have been stupidly oblivious to his own feelings for so long, but now that he knows what it is it’s clear Chanyeol reciprocates to some extent, even if _he_ doesn’t really get it yet. It’s like a fog has been lifted from his eyes, and he now sees the way Chanyeol’s gaze darts down to his lips when he licks them, just quick enough that he’s doing it unknowingly.

Kyungsoo may be shy and the most reticent of the three, content to leave the conversation to his noisier friends, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t dare step up, especially when it comes to something he wants. And boy, does he see something he wants. Which is why it’s almost insulting how surprised Chanyeol is when Kyungsoo grabs him by the shirt and pulls him down to plant one on him. Chanyeol’s gasp is astronomically loud in the quiet of their room, muffled it may be with their lips pressed together. Kyungsoo pulls away, leaving Chanyeol sputtering in confusion.

“I, you, we,” he stammers, looking utterly bewildered though not exactly kicking up a fuss. Kyungsoo licks his lips, tasting the chapstick Chanyeol uses, and there it is again, that quick flicker of Chanyeol’s eyes down to Kyungsoo’s lips. It’s maddening.

“Just shut up,” Kyungsoo growls, and he pulls Chanyeol back down again, lips parting when Chanyeol finally gets on with the program and responds eagerly.

 

 

 

“You guys are terrible!” Yura yells when she walks in on them kissing in the kitchen for what seems like the umpteen time. She lobs apples and points a woodenly spoon threateningly in their direction. “Not that I’m not happy that you guys are being all gross now, but there are some things I really don’t want to see. Go away!” she exclaims, brandishing the spoon. The side door slides open pointedly.

Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol by the hand, and together they run out of the kitchen into the gardens, laughing loudly the whole time. He presses Chanyeol into the grass under the shade of that big sprawling tree where they first met, clamouring on top of him and sealing their lips together. It’s like he’s been addicted since the first time they kissed, and now all he wants to do is kiss him more and more, as much as he can until Chanyeol’s left panting and beautifully flushed.

 

 

 

 

 

20

“I’m so cold,” Yura whines. She burrows into Chanyeol as they walk, greedily leeching off his warmth.

“It’s your fault,” Kyungsoo complains from Chanyeol’s other side. “You’re the one who insisted on coming out here just to ice skate!” He burrows into Chanyeol’s side as well, grumpy and shivering.

“Don’t worry,” Chanyeol tells them grandly, arms wrapping around their shoulders, laughing heartily, “I shall be your portable heater.” His hands on their shoulders glow slightly, and they both sigh in satisfaction at the warmth emanating. The park’s almost empty, because most of the town’s people are sensible and have stayed home, so Kyungsoo doesn’t fuss when Chanyeol overdoes it a little with the heat, enough that his hands are visibly smoking as they trudge through the snowy path, skates hanging off a string around their necks.

Or perhaps he should have, because they get too engrossed in laughing at another one of Chanyeol’s silly jokes they don’t hear the car coming until it’s pulled up neatly in front, almost blocking their direct way. Kyungsoo feels the warmth on his shoulder quickly dissipate, and he hopes that Chanyeol’s hands aren’t glowing anymore.

Two men step out of the car. One of them has big, curious eyes and high cheekbones, which is all that can really be seen of him because he’s bundled up like the are. The other man has sharp eyes, almost like a cat’s, and it’s him Kyungsoo instantly feels leery towards, because he’s dressed in just jeans and a trenchcoat, far too little for the current temperature.

“Hello,” the sharp-eyed man says. His voice is light and and smile pleasant enough, but it isn’t enough to make Kyungsoo let down his guard. He feels Chanyeol stiffen next to him, pulling his arms away from Kyungsoo and Yura’s shoulders and moving to the front of the both of them.

“Yes?” Chanyeol ventures cautiously, always the first to take a step up. Kyungsoo curls his fingers into the thickness of Chanyeol’s padded jacket to steady himself. He casts his eyes in Yura’s direction, and he sees that her face has furrowed into a worried expression.

“We just want to talk,” the man says, now moving foward as well. “Maybe we can offer you guys a ride home? The weather’s terrible today.” He gestures to the car behind him. The other hangs behind, expression blank. It’s almost as though he’s waiting for instructions.

“No thank you,” Chanyeol says bravely, his voice firm and unwavering.

“Come now, don’t make this difficult,” the man says. He’s still smiling that unsettling smile of his. Kyungsoo sees his right hand twitch minutely, and then he spots a little of what looks like a blade.

“Run!” he immediately shouts, pulling harshly on Chanyeol’s jacket. He makes to do exactly as he’s yelled, but his feet suddenly refuse to cooperate with him, as though they’ve been glued to the groud. He glances to see Chanyeol and Yura similarly held in place, faces mirroring shock. Then he sees the other man, the one who’s hung back this whole time, with his hand out, fingers clenched as though exerting great force. Abruptly, he understands. _They’ve got powers too._

Panicking, he lashes out with a frantic wave. The ground immediately starts trembling and the wide-eyed man stumbles, losing his hold on them. Yura takes the opportunity to push with all her might so both men stagger back, and Chanyeol follows up with one of the biggest balls of fire he can muster. He grabs the both of them the moment the fire leaves his hands and they all stumble back as one, only to watch on in shock as a sheet of ice forms in the fire’s path, completely enveloping it and rendering it worthless. It shatters to reveal the cat-eyed man behind, grinning wildly, as he brandishes what Kyungsoo had previously thought was a blade and is actually a shard of ice.

Then he hurls it in Chanyeol’s direction and it hits Yura, who had darted in front of Chanyeol at the last second. She slumps in Chanyeol’s arms, blood already spreading from where the shard is embedded in her chest. Through the thumping in his ears Kyungsoo hears someone screaming. Then he belatedly realises it’s _himself_ as he rushes over to the both of them. When Chanyeol looks up, his eyes are wild with shock, as if he can’t believe what’s just happened. Then his face hardens with rage, and he reaches out with one hand, fingers curled, and twists. There’s a high-pitched screech of metal before the engine of the car explodes. Kyungsoo quickly pulls a wall of dirt up to shield them from the impact as much as he can. He doesn’t care about what’s happened to the other two men.

“Oh god, Yura,” Chanyeol’s trembling all over, tears already spilling over and rolling down his face as he clutches at his sister. She’s limp in his arms and already so pale. Kyungsoo reaches a shaking hand out and wraps it around her wrist, willing her to wake up. He shudders, and he feels the warmth of his own tears sliding down his cheeks.

 

 

Kyungsoo finds Chanyeol in his room, packing, after the funeral. Chanyeol’s only packing his clothes, but already the room looks sad and empty, like Chanyeol’s taking the colour out of it with him. Kyungsoo stands in the doorway, hesitant.

“Mum and I are leaving,” Chanyeol says, a little unnecessarily. Kyungsoo’s known since they’d had to start preparations for the funeral. Chanyeol hadn’t cried throughout, and Kyungsoo had just _known_.

The men had been missing by the time Yura had been declared dead and someone had been sent back to the scene. Only the carnage remained as evidence that something had in fact happened.

“I know,” Kyungsoo tells Chanyeol. He makes up his mind as he watches Chanyeol throw haphazardly-folded clothes into his duffel back, and walks over to hug him from the back, arms looping around Chanyeol’s waist to link over his belly. Chanyeol stiffens, then relaxes and puts a hand over Kyungsoo’s joined ones.

“Are you going to stop me?” he asks softly. Kyungsoo presses his face into the broad expanse of Chanyeol’s back.

“No,” he replies. “You have to.” His voice comes out muffled, but Chanyeol strokes his wrist to tell him he’s understood. Kyungsoo leans back and turns Chanyeol around, eyes scanning Chanyeol’s face. Even now, sad and tired and withdrawn, he’s still beautiful. Kyungsoo pushes Chanyeol down onto the bed and crawls in next to him, only this time he’s the one curling into Chanyeol and wrapping an arm and leg around Chanyeol instead, this time round.

“Just this once, then you come back home.” he whispers into Chanyeol’s neck. He kisses a spot, then presses his face into it. He takes the arm that squeezes around his waist as a promise. “I love you,” he finally dares say.

“I love you too,” he hears Chanyeol say, and feels Chanyeol press a kiss to his hair. He closes his eyes and falls asleep.

When he wakes up, Chanyeol’s already gone.

 

 

 

28

“Two bottles of beer, please,” Kyungsoo hears someone order. He looks up to see a man sliding into the seat to his left. When the bartender delivers the man’s order, he slides one bottle over to Kyungsoo.

“Cheers,” the man says, tipping his own bottle towards Kyungsoo. The corners of his lips are curled upwards, like he’s in on a joke Kyungsoo isn’t.

“Thanks. But I’m not interested.” Kyungsoo makes to push the bottle back, but the man stops him with a hand on his wrist.

“Not even as congratulations on finishing your doctorate, Dr. Do?” The man smiles openly now, teasing. Kyungsoo sits up at his name, frowning at the man. A moment later, he passes a folder over to Kyungsoo.

“Also, I’d love to get your opinion on this man,” he continues, tone now more serious than before. Kyungsoo opens the folders to several photographs of a man, along with numerous pages of print-outs with many parts redacted in black. “Kim Minseok, thirty-nine, owns a fairly sizeable drilling and mining company.”

“Who are you?” Kyungsoo finally asks. He spares one more glance at the photograph and closes the folder, pushing it away. He feels sick. Downing the rest of his drink, he pulls the extra bottle of beer the man had ordered towards himself and takes a long swig. “And what do you want?”

“Kim Jongdae,” the man finally introduces, offering a hand forward. Kyungsoo ignores it. Jongdae smiles easily, unoffended, and retracts his hand.

“I’m an agent with NIS,” Jongdae continues. Kyungsoo’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “I head the Special Investigations department.” He’s still smiling, even though he’s had nothing to smile about so far into this conversation. Kyungsoo wonders if he’s naturally this affable or if the NIS drilled this into him.

“They let you lead an entire department?” Kyungsoo questions, squinting at Jongdae. “Aren’t you twenty-four, at most?”

“I’m twenty-eight, the same age as you,” Jongdae retorts immediately. Brows furrowed and lips slightly turned down, it’s the first crack in his thus-far cheerful demeanour. Kyungsoo gets the feeling that the issue’s a bit of a sore point and shrugs in silent apology. But he stares Jongdae now anyway. Jongdae will crack sooner or later. People always do, when he looks at them that way.

“Fine,” Jongdae finally says. “The case on Kim Minseok is pretty much non-existent at this point because none of the others in my department think it’s an issue.” His shoulders seem deflated now that he’s come clean.

“And what do you think?” Kyungsoo prompts.

“Well, I think you might,” Jongdae sits up straight, eyes starting to gleam again. He’s clearly encouraged that Kyungsoo hasn’t left but is still here listening to him. “Seismic activity’s been detected in the area around his factory, but I don’t think it’s just any usual activity.”

“You realise that mining areas are typically prone to earthquakes, right?” Kyungsoo tells him.

“I have a man on the inside who tells me that isn’t the case,” Jongdae shoots back, clearly undeterred. “And considering your interest of study I think you would be great help.”

Kyungsoo glances back at the closed folder. He thinks about how he’d never known the sharp-eyed man’s name until now, about the irony of Minseok being delivered right to him when Chanyeol had wanted so badly to hunt him down, and what this means about Chanyeol’s current status. It makes his heart race, wondering whether this might lead Chanyeol back to him, even though he knows it’s silly to hope.

“You know what,” Kyungsoo tells Jongdae, who beams like he already knows Kyungsoo’s answer, “I’m in.”

He accepts Jongdae’s handshake this time round.

“And call me Kyungsoo.”

 

 

Jongdae’s ‘man on the inside’ turns out to be a shy, bespectacled man named Junmyeon who works in the tech department. Jongdae brings him down to the agency to meet Junmyeon in person, preferring that Junmyeon explain his findings to him. They get many unimpressed glances along the way, several of the obviously more senior agents shaking their heads as Jongdae leads him past.

“They think I’m spending too much time on this,” Jongdae tells him ruefully as he opens the doors to a lab and motions for Kyungsoo to go in.

Kim Junmyeon’s nice and polite. He speaks with a gentle tone during their discussion, and occasionally gestures to get a point across. But what Kyungsoo finds most interesting is how, when Junmyeon turns to pour himself a drink from the cooler, he senses the slight forces he’s come to associate with the presence of abilities. He takes a good look at Junmyeon, who’s still sipping at his drink and has given no indication that anything’s out of the oridinary.

Interesting.

 

 

Junmyeon’s first break-through leads them to, strangely enough, a beach. It’s got enough people so it isn’t exactly deserted, but it doesn’t have much of a crowd either.

The plan, Jongdae tells Kyungsoo on the way over, is to stake out the area until Minseok makes an appearance, and then civilly take him in for questioning. For the occasion, he’s only got a handful of agents following around.

“That’s the plan?” Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow, dubious. “You’re just expecting that a man like him will come along quiety?”

“And what do you know about him then?” Jongdae’s eyes narrow. At Kyungsoo’s shrug of an answer he straightens, clearly irritated. “That’s about as far as the higher-ups will let me go, I’m afraid.”

It all goes to shit, of course. In Kyungsoo’s defence, he hadn’t expected both Minseok and that other man, whom he now knows is called Lu Han, to be there, much less recognise him after all these years.

“What the fuck,” Jongdae yells as they take cover from ice shards Kyungsoo grimly remembers all too well, “The ice is coming from him!”

“Yes it is!” Kyungsoo yells back before he jumps out, ignoring Jongdae’s calling after him to get back under cover. He refuses to stay put like some sitting duck. There’s a guardhouse tower near where Minseok is hiding, and Kyungsoo quickly focuses on crushing it so the whole thing falls on Minseok and his lot as much as possible. He’s heading for the pile when there’s a ball of flames out of nowhere, depositing a man in the distance. Lu Han takes advantage of the distraction and quickly pulls Minseok out of the wreckage, depositing him into a van and getting in himself before the van takes off.

The newcomer gives chase as well, moving astonishingly fast. Except he’s sending these burst of flames in the van’s direction, and the flames sometime flicker out of control and burns something else in his path instead. A lot of the other people enjoying the beach had ran away the moment trouble started, but it means that the ones left behind are the ones who are usually too busy gawking to make a quick getaway to safety. Kyungsoo gives chase after the man, relying on little sprints of levitation to catch up with him. The moment he gets close enough he wraps his arms around the man to stop him.

“Let go of me!” the man thrashes in Kyungsoo’s grip. He’s much taller than Kyungsoo, and strong. But Kyungsoo’s stronger, and holds fast to the ground beneath him. The ground trembles and the sand start vibrating with his feat of strength. The man in his arms starts growing uncomfortably warm but Kyungsoo remains steady, unfazed, knowing that letting go would only result in more carnage. Finally the man slumps when the van is far out of their sight, like all the fight as gone right out of him. He’s trembling and clammy and panting, and only then does Kyungsoo deem it safe to let go. The man staggers forward and falls to his knees. He lets loose a harsh cry, and the desperation within it causes a pang in Kyungsoo, who makes to put a comforting arm on his shoulder.

Another cry fills the air, less desperation and more rage, and suddenly flames light the air. Kyungsoo staggers back immediately, arms thrown over his face in instinctive self-defence. Slowly, he lowers them to be greeted with the dazzling form of a fiery phoenix, with wing span so far-reaching it feels like they’ve filled up the entire night sky. Kyungoso freezes.

In the gradually fading light of the phoenix the man’s face is revealed, if only partially. It’s been far too long, but the slant of his nose, the curve of his cheeks, and the wideness of his eyes remain familiar.

“Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo breathes in disbelief. His hands ache to reach out, this time not in intent to comfort the man before him but himself, to feel for himself that it is Chanyeol. He wants to grab Chanyeol by the shoulders and give him a good hard shake and ask him, “Why didn’t you call?” He wants to wrap his arms around Chanyeol and be squeezed in the way he always was in Chanyeol’s strong arms. He wants and he wants, to make up for lost time, to re-fill that gaping hole in his heart Chanyeol left when he walked out so many years ago. He’s hoped for so long, that when they finally meet again, it would be to that same bright smile Chanyeol always wore and his cheerful laughter that dotted every conversation.

It takes a while, but Chanyeol’s eyes finally focus on him. Soon it’s Chanyeol’s turn to clutch at him in disbelief, hands grabbing onto his shoulders like they’re a lifeline.

“Soo?” he chokes out, and Kyungsoo finally gives in and throws his arms around him.

 

 

“Place hasn’t changed much,” Chanyeol muses. Standing next to him in the living room of his home takes Kyungsoo back to his teenage years all over again. His mother used to complain that they made enough noise for an army, even with just the three of them. Afterwards, it had been much quieter. Too quiet. He watches as Chanyeol walks over to where there’s a dent in the wallpaper, one you would probably have missed if you didn’t know that it was already there. It’s still as clear as day in his head, how they’d knocked a chair right into that spot while wrestling over the last chocolate bar available, Yura egging them on in the background as she yelled out commentary like a commentator. They’d panicked, afterwards, and only Yura had had the sense to drag one of the numerous side tables over and place a vase on top. His parents never noticed.

“No, it hasn’t,” he finally agrees. Chanyeol turns his gaze from the dent towards him and smiles wryly.

“Don’t suppose my old room is still available,” he asks lightly, breaking the gaze. His hands tighten around the one duffel bag he has. It’s all he has, Kyungsoo realises, and his heart tightens at the thought. He thinks about back then, when Chanyeol had a collection of mismatched knick-knacks and raggedy but well cared-for teddy bears, enough to fill up one corner of his room. He’d left them all behind and they’re still in the room he used to stay in.

There’s so much Kyungsoo wants to talk about. He wants to ask Chanyeol where he’s been all this time, what he’s been doing. Whether he’s finally satiated his thirst for revenge. Most of all he wants so badly to kiss him. It’s like an ache that has developed since he first laid eyes on Chanyeol for the first time in nearly a decade, and that has intensified since. But back then Yura used to comment about how good he was at reading Chanyeol and knowing his thoughts, and it seems that he’s retained that ability even after so long. He sees it in the way Chanyeol’s eyes keep turning away and how he keeps shifting his body weight from side to side on either foot; there’ll be no catching up tonight. Not while Chanyeol isn’t ready. So Kyungsoo forces a smile he doesn’t feel.

“It’s always been there,” Kyungsoo tells him, trying to match his light tone. He doesn’t think he manages it quite well but it’s the best he can muster at the moment. “Didn’t let anyone else clean it out.”

The day he’d woken up to a note and Chanyeol’s empty room, he’d expressly barred anyone else from entering the place lest they try to take anything. Everything left in it remains untouched till this day, save for the occasional dusting to keep it clean, in the hopes that it would be ready to welcome Chanyeol should he return. Only, Kyungsoo had pictured the occasion a little differently.

In a fit of pique he twists the liquor cabinet open later, after Chanyeol has retired to his room. It’s been a while since he’s broken into the whiskey, but he figures this is a good enough reason.

 

 

Even now with the whole “superhero power” issue (as Jongdae puts it) being out in the open, Chanyeol still seems reluctant discussing his ability in front of Jongdae. Kyungsoo gets it, considering what happened so many years ago. Nevertheless, he’s glad that Jongdae doesn’t take offence at how Chanyeol seems to bristle whenever the topic’s brought up.

“Look, I’m just saying that there could be more of your type out there,” Kyungsoo walks in on Jongdae saying in the living room. Chanyeol’s curled up in an armchair, looking away from Jongdae. It’s always been one of his favoured positions when discussing something he doesn’t like or doesn’t feel comfortable talking about, Kyungsoo recognises. He used to do curl up like that and turn away whenever his mother and sister would try to talk him out of petting the stray cat that occasionally came by, once his allergies developed, as if making himself a smaller target would protect him from the things he didn’t want to hear. On some afternoons Kyungsoo would slide into the armchair with him and they would nap until Yura came by to wake them up.

“Our type?” Chanyeol repeats. The displeasure is clear in his voice even with his face turned away towards the window.

“You know what I meant,” Jongdae sighs. He casts a pleading look towards Kyungsoo, who shakes his head and walks over to Chanyeol, squatting by his armchair.

“You agree with him?” Chanyeol looks down at him.

“You know he’s right,” Kyungsoo says softly. He hears Jongdae leave the room and is glad for it; Chanyeol’s always been too stubborn to give in, especially when others are around to see it. Or at least he used to be. Kyungsoo isn’t sure of the parameters within which Chanyeol operates anymore, not when a decade has gone by. It’s probably silly of him to approach in the same way but it’s all he can do, like a blind man feeling around until he finds a route.

“Do I?” Chanyeol’s eyes are wide and questioning. Where there once were childlike questions of awe and wonder have since been replaced by doubt. Kyungsoo waits for him to come to his own conclusion.

“You do what you want,” he finally tells Kyungsoo. “Just make sure we find Minseok.” He looks back towards the window. The rays of the setting sun cuts across his face. Under it, his face seems both soft and hard at the same time, a paradox. Kyungsoo knows he’s done with the conversation and gets up to leave. 

 

 

Jongdae’s superiors remain reluctant to spare the necessary resources that could potentially help track down the type of individuals they’re looking for, despite the evidence that Minseok’s after something bigger than just nuclear activity. Junmyeon tries his best with the contacts he has and it’s that, combined with Jongdae’s connections, that lead them to a small house in a quiet village. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo make the trip down together in Kyungsoo’s car. The image of Chanyeol at the steering wheel is so reminiscent of when they and Yura had travelled to the beach that Kyungsoo almost expects Chanyeol to switch the radio on and sing along at the top of his voice. They spend the whole trip in silence, and Kyungsoo bitterly thinks that he’d rather take Chanyeol’s historically horrific butchering of lyrics instead of this.

The place, when they get there, is old and run-down, clearly in need of a good fixing. A boy who couldn’t be older than eighteen answers the door. He scowls at them, though it’s honestly not very effective if he means to scare them off.

“What do you want?” he asks rudely. Kyungsoo sighs mentally, but he puts on his game face smile, trying to will this done and over with.

“Where are your parents?” Kyungsoo asks in as kindly a voice he can muster.

“They’re dead and it’s none of your business,” the boy replies, who just leaves Kyungsoo sputtering and wishing he’d gone the rude way as well. The boy makes to shut the door on them, but Chanyeol jams his arm in at the very last minute and bares his teeth at the kid.

“Either you let us in and show us what you can do, or…” he trails off, but Kyungsoo figures the message is pretty clear considering that menacing expression and how his arm has started smoking. Kyungsoo sniggers a little at how terrified the boy looks, then he feels sad. The old Chanyeol he knew would never have been so abrupt.

“J-Jongin!’ the boy calls, and he runs back into the house, still yelling for ‘Jongin’.

“You shouldn’t have scared him like that,” Kyungsoo says, casting a look Chanyeol’s way.

“He was wasting our time, and it’s not like we have much of it,” Chanyeol replies shortly.

There’s a ‘pop’, like the sound of bubble wrap popping, and suddenly the boy appears back in front of them, this time with another one in tow, the newcomer looking only slightly older.

“Are you here to kill us?” this one asks, his tone a lot softer compared to the first boy. He also sounds resigned, and it’s not difficult to see the tiredness in his eyes. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo exchange brief glances and Chanyeol tilts his head in an invitation for Kyungsoo to go ahead.

“Well, actually…”

 

 

“Where are you guys headed?” the taxi driver asks them cheerfully as they pile in, smiling at them through the mirror.

“Well, uh,” Kyungsoo peeks at his taxi license on display, “Baekhyun-“

‘Let me,” Chanyeol interrupts. He snaps his fingers and a puff of flame appears. He lets it dance around his fingers, an intricate little dance. Both Kyungsoo and Baekhyun the taxi driver watch in silence as Chanyeol carries on, looking quite like he’s enjoying it. Then he snaps his fingers again and the flame disappears. Baekhyun’s eyes are round with awe.

“That was so cool!” he exclaims, even clapping along as he says it. “I can do something like that too, here.” He snaps his fingers, and the lamp-posts outside on either side of the road all light up.

Kyungsoo gives him the address to the house and Baekhyun drives them there, chatting the whole way about how he’d once caused a black-out in his entire neighbourhood when he was ten.

 

 

 

Chanyeol brings their newcomers down to the basement where they used to practise as kids. This place too, hasn’t been touched since Yura passed. The walls still hold scorch marks from when Chanyeol had tried target practice, only with fire, the pillars missing chunks from when Kyungsoo decided he was going to try and move concrete as well until his father had stepped in to prevent the house’s foundation from collapsing, the shelf holding the crumpled up aluminium sheets Yura had used to fine-tune her control. Kyungsoo stands with Jongin, Sehun, Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Junmyeon as Chanyeol turns the lights on.

“Your father built this?” Jongin whispers to Kyungsoo, looking very awe-struck. Kyungsoo nods.

“Wow,” Jongin says, his eyes incredibly round with disbelief.

“Our dad didn’t want to see any of that at all,” Sehun cuts in to explain. Kyungsoo smiles sadly at them.

Everyone’s drenched by the end of the session, thanks to Junmyeon who had managed to conjure a big body of water only to drop it on them all. Chanyeol walks over to stand next to Kyungsoo, and they both watch as Sehun sends little puffs of wind towards Junmyeon, causing his wet hair to stick out in little tuffs. Behind him, Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Jongin laugh hysterically at the flustered expression on Junmyeon’s face.

“They’re doing well,” Kyungsoo comments.

“They are,” Chanyeol nods in agreement. He watches the others clown around for a while longer before he says, “Reminds me of when we used to practise down here.”

“Only it was more disastrous back then,” Kyungsoo reminds him. “Remember when you somehow burned a hole in the ground and nearly burned into the wire?” Chanyeol snorts.

“Only because Yura-“ Chanyeol cuts himself off. His face, when Kyungsoo sneaks a peak, is stricken. He quickly collects himself and leaves, murmuring apologies to Kyungsoo along the way.

Kyungsoo takes one last look at the others and sighs. He leaves for his own room, feeling empty and drained.

 

 

The night before they leave, Kyungsoo knocks on Chanyeol’s door. It takes a while before the door opens, but it does to reveal Chanyeol in a faded t-shirt and sweatpants. His eyes widen upon seeing Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo quickly raises the set he’s holding for Chanyeol’s inspection, smiling gently when he’s let in. He quickly starts setting up the chessboard on the table. Chanyeol takes a cautious seat in his chair - it hurts, thinking that Chanyeol feels like he has to be cautious around him.

Kyungsoo feels Chanyeol’s eyes on him as he starts play, and it stays all throughout the first half of the game. When Kyungsoo finally dares look up to meet his gaze it’s full of conflicted emotions and questions.

“Why are you here, Soo,” Chanyeol asks softly. It’s so difficult for Kyungsoo not to melt at the shortening of his name, like how Chanyeol used to. It takes a moment for him to put himself together, to prepare to just say what he wants to say after so long.

“I’ve missed you,” Kyungsoo gets out. Even as he says it the weight of exactly how much he’s missed Chanyeol hits him; he’d been trying to hold it back, if only to make sure they focus on catching Minseok. The endgame. But having Chanyeol be so close within his reach and yet not is killing him, in new ways he didn’t know could hurt. Every fibre of his being is just urging him on, to reach out and touch, anything, anywhere, just some form of meaningful and reassuring contact.

Chanyeol’s face does that thing it does when he’s having conflicting emotions. Kyungsoo ploughs on.

“Did you miss me too?” There, he’s said it, the question he’s really wanted to know all this while. It’s as though an affirmation that Chanyeol has indeed felt the same way would make up for the emptiness of the past years. In the next moment, he regrets pushing. He shouldn’t have done it, not now when they are so close to finishing things.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, but then-

“I did,” Chanyeol interrupts. His eyes, this round when Kyungsoo looks up, are full of resolve. “I’ve missed you all this time. I constantly thought of you on nights.” And it seems like now that he’s started he’s determined to say it all, because he continues, “I shouldn’t have left you. I should have held you tight and asked you to come with me. You would have, wouldn’t you?”

“I’m sorry, and I love you,” he tells Kyungsoo, and that’s it, that’s all Kyungsoo can take before he’s getting out of his seat and flinging himself into Chanyeol’s lap, hands holding onto Chanyeol’s face and meeting his lips with his own. The first press is like the first intake of fresh air after drowning for so long, and it’s all he can do to not gasp hysterically into Chanyeol’s mouth and breakdown. Their lips press together, just contact and nothing more, until he feels Chanyeol’s lips open and his tongue sliding along his lips, like he’s asking for passage. And, oh, all he’s ever needed was to ask, and Kyungsoo would let him in right away.

He nudges Chanyeol towards the bed, and as he looks down at Chanyeol he remembers the day he pressed Chanyeol into the grass and the last day they spent together before Chanyeol left. Those were their first and their break, and this is their reunion.

“Stop looking and just kiss me,” Chanyeol whispers, the hint of impishness in his eyes that Kyungsoo’s missed so much that all he can do is obey. He licks back into Chanyeol’s mouth, kisses its corners, and trails along Chanyeol’s jaw and down his neck, their bodies burning at every point they connect, lips to neck and hands to hands and hips to hips. When they come it’s together, rutting into each other, Kyungsoo’s forehead pressed against Chanyeol’s temple as he tries to stop his tears from falling. But it’s okay, because Chanyeol’s already beaten him to it; he can feel tears that aren’t his drip down the bridge of his nose. Then Chanyeol laughs.

“What,” Kyungsoo asks, nosing at Chanyeol’s cheek.

Chanyeol gestures at the rest of the room, where Kyungsoo’s apparently induced a mini earthquake and caused many of his books to fall off the shelves. He hadn’t even noticed. He laughs as well, relishing in how good it feels.

 

 

In the end it plays out exactly as they’d planned. It’s probably a little anti-climatic, but Kyungsoo still feels a grim sense of satisfaction as he sees Minseok on the ground, a blade sticking out of his back. He walks over the body to where Chanyeol’s slumped over a rock. He cups Chanyeol’s face in his hands, wiping away the blood dripping from a cut above his eyebrow.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, “It’s over.”

“It’s over,” Chanyeol repeats after him, holding onto Kyungsoo’s hands. He wraps his arms around Kyungsoo in a hug for a long moment, then lets Kyungsoo pull him up. Together they walk towards the rest of the team, never once looking back.


End file.
